


Stomach It

by SlasherFiend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beating, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams vs. Reality, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Psychological Trauma, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/pseuds/SlasherFiend
Summary: Peter's trapped by a group of people who abuse him and all he wants is to go back home to Chris.





	Stomach It

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I have a thing for hurting Peter.  
> I kind of threw the gauntlet at him, so head the tags. Seriously. He forcibly enters Lydia's mind at one point and has memories of other traumatic times as well. If you're not ok with this, turn back now.  
> Time skips are indicated with an asterisk.

The sounds of soft shoes echoed in Peter’s mind all day, every day, regulating the coming and goings of food. He sometimes wondered if he would have been better being left in Eichen.

 

*

 

He paced his cell, the slot in the metal door was closed and it was dark. He raked his hands into his hair, claws catching, bleeding a little.

 

*

 

He curled up on the cot, using his shirt that still smelled like Chris as a nest.

 

*

 

He was strapped down on his back to a cold metal table, tugging at the cuffs, at the thick muzzle gag over his mouth as he was drugged and-and fucked. Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head and he floated in a haze of wolfs-bane and some other concoction.

 

*

 

He stood in the shower, trying to get clean, was suddenly pushed against the cold tile, a hand slapped over his mouth. The drugs weren’t out of his system yet, he couldn’t fight back.

 

*

 

The one time he had tried to escape he had been put in a straight-jacket and left in his room. He had screamed and howled on the floor till he was hoarse, eyes wild by the time they opened the door and flashed a light in his eyes.

 

*

 

One time he was allowed to go swimming in the pool. He heard someone’s heart beating fast, they were scared.

 

It was the young guard watching him.

 

Peter got out of the pool, water rolling off his body and made a show of stretching. He flashed a grin at the guard and was slammed to the wall for his trouble, a tazer in his side.

 

Someone kicked him in the ribs.

 

*

 

More heartbeats, someone was rutting up against him, he couldn’t see,a thick blindfold covered his eyes.

 

The girl cried.

 

*

 

He stayed in the dark, he was chained in a corner.

 

*

 

He knotted someone else with a groan and claws popping.

 

*

 

Memories swam through his head, the Calaveras, being in the care facility after the fire, trapped in Eichen, spinning round and round his head.

 

He woke up, kicking the covers back and fell to the floor. He was broken, ready to rock in the corner and suck his thumb.

 

Someone snapped their fingers in front of his eyes, he wanted to bite them.

 

He was tired though, he looked up and leaned down, kissing their boots. It was easier than fighting back. He was so tired.

 

Someone pat his head and put a collar on him, leading him out, down the concrete hallway on his hands and knees.

 

They led him to a courtyard and tied him standing to a tree. They whipped him and he didn’t flinch, didn’t talk back.

 

He sucked their cocks and was grateful when they threw him in the fountain to get clean. He crawled out to their laughter and didn’t react as they back handed him across the face.

 

*

 

He dreamed of burning the place down. His dreams were full of blood and fire, roars through the night that shook the stones of the old compound, or was it a monastery?

 

*

 

They beat him down the next day, or was it the day after? It was hard to tell.

 

*

 

His stomach rumbled.

 

They gave him oatmeal as he sat on his heels in the hallway, collar around his neck still. It was spooned out of a dish, a quarter of it flicked past his mouth and landed on his face or the floor. They grabbed him by the hair and had him lick it up.

 

He was glad when the runny oatmeal made him sick and he got to stay in his cell for a few days.

 

*

 

At some point, it must have been weeks later, his beard was growing out, he was allowed to walk along the courtyard. He made the mistake of falling asleep in the grass.

 

He woke in a straight-jacket, in a padded cell, laughed at by his captors in the open doorway. He was too weak to fight back, could barely stand from all the drugs they had given him.

 

They fucked him, had to be ever single guy in the place.

 

Peter’s ass leaked come and he cried, whimpering.

 

*

 

The next time he opened bleary eyes, they had gotten him to produce his tail. It was black with a grey streak running through it. He was chained down on all fours on a table, like they were giving him an exam.

 

They stroked and petted his tail, made him hard and aching.

 

Someone slipped a gloved finger into his ass.

 

They jabbed him with a needle and his claws popped out, his fangs poked his lips. He snarled.

 

They shoved a dildo into him.

 

He howled as electricity zapped up his body, sparking across his ribs, into the floor.

 

*

 

He sought the moon, the full moon. It called to him, beckoned, getting worse with each day. He hadn’t felt the need like this in some time. He had been holed up for a month and now he yearned to be free.

 

He broke through his door to run to the courtyard and soak in the rays.

 

They tried to take him down.

 

He spun, breaking their grips and roared. He chased them to the front gate, dropping bodies as he shifted into his wolf form.

 

Something burned, it made him howl louder.

 

Peter stood at the heavy front gate, panting hard, human now and covered in blood, pawing the guard for a key.

 

Then the door creaked open and Peter froze, ready to run. He blinked, staring at Stiles.

 

Chris came up the road behind Stiles with his gun out, but paused seeing Peter.

 

Derek and Scott ran past, sliding to a stop just before the compound’s gate.

 

A police siren was heard.

 

Peter glanced at them all. He was naked but didn’t care.

 

Derek placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and Peter nuzzled his nephew.

 

Derek was surprised as Peter burrowed against him.

 

Scott joined the hug.

 

Stiles turned to Chris.

 

“Give them a minute. Peter needs to reconnect with the pack. You should tell your dad to bring a blanket.”

 

Stiles nodded and jogged down the road, where his dad was waiting.

 

Chris was sure Peter wasn’t even aware that he had signaled the other wolves, had only howled in pain and anger. Chris watched dark smoke rise from the buildings inside and could see a flash of blue as Peter turned to him.

 

Derek and Scott pulled back as Peter walked up to Chris.

 

They stared at each other for a moment, both thinking of the fight they had had before this, lots of yelling and Peter smashed something. “Come after me next time, don’t let me leave.”

 

Chris took in Peter’s wild hair and his beard, blood covered one half of his face and was speckled in his hair. “Only if you remind me of how much of a stubborn ass I can be.”

 

Peter chuckled.

 

“I don’t want you to feel like I have to own you to stay.”

 

Peter flinched. The tug of a collar was burned into his skin. Peter’s fingers fluttered across his throat and he shook, tying to speak.

 

Chris pulled Peter into a hug and rubbed his back.

 

Peter tucked his nose against Chris’s neck and breathed in his scent.

 

Stiles and the sheriff approached and Peter picked up his head, eyes glowing red and he bit into Chris’s neck, drowning out his scream as his eyes took in Stiles’s shocked expression and the sheriff raising his gun.

 

Chris dropped to the ground and Peter howled.

 

A shot went off.

 

*

 

Peter woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat, scrambling backwards into the wall, the stone wall of his dark cell. He curled up, knees to his chest and cried. He was never going to leave here and now they knew about the others.

 

He laid back on his cot and feared going back to sleep, or really the idea that someone would come in and influence his dreams again.

 

*

 

At some point, he woke up with a wrist cuffed to his bed and didn’t care. He just didn’t care anymore and flopped his head back into the flat pillow.

 

*

 

He woke up with a scream, clawing at his body, he felt like he was overheating, body rigid with fire. His eyes glowed and he howled, he could barely tell what was real or what was fake, but his body was reacting to fire and smoke.

 

The door burst open and someone came in, coughing, trying to keep their face covered. They came for Peter and he sat up, pushing them aside.

 

“Peter, it’s me!” They dropped their arm and he could see it was Lydia.

 

But was it? How could he be sure? He popped his claws and stuck them in the back of her neck.

 

Lydia gasped and she gripped his arm.

 

Peter dove through memories, the kids made a group to talk about going to Eichen, no they were standing around a table, but Derek was there, and Chris.

 

Peter pulled back, shaking.

 

“We came to rescue you.” Lydia put pressure on where she was bleeding and coughed.

 

Peter turned to the open door.

 

A guard went flying and Allison stood in the doorway with a stun baton. “Come on!”

 

Peter and Lydia left. He felt bad about entering Lydia’s mind like that and curled an arm around her, to protect her from other guards.

 

Allison had their backs.

 

They walked down half lit corridors.

 

Was that gunfire?

 

It was like a maze, but then they were outside, in front of the gate and it was open, Stiles’s Jeep sat crooked in the road.

 

Lydia pulled away from Peter and turned to Allison. “Where’s Stiles? Wasn’t he supposed to stay in his Jeep?”

 

“Probably trying to find Scott.”

 

An explosion rocked the compound.

 

The girls headed for the Jeep and Peter slowly followed. He paused at the gate, sure if he stepped beyond it he would wake up and it would be a dream again. Or it would be lined with mountain ash and he’d be stuck here. His whole body shook hard.

 

The girls climbed into the Jeep.

 

Lydia spun around. “Peter!”

 

Suddenly someone came running up behind him. He turned around, grabbing one of the black uniformed men who had a knife and whose face was burned. Peter snarled, popped his claws and slit the guy’s throat.

 

The guy dropped to the ground and Peter sliced at him again and again and again. He raised his arm to do it again, when someone grabbed him. He turned, growling, but Chris was standing there.

 

Peter got to his feet and shoved Chris back, hard, against the wall.

 

“Peter…are you still mad about what I said? I’m sorry I called you my bitch…”

 

Peter kissed Chris. His head spun, the wolf wanted to give in to the blood-lust, but he had missed Chris so much, even if he was stubborn and why was he raising his arm?

 

Peter pulled back, panic setting in, but Chris shot a guard who was trying to flee.

 

“Is this real?” Peter hated how his voice trembled. He was on edge and he could slip up at any second and hurt someone.

 

“Of course it’s real.” Chris frowned, concerned. “What did they…?”

 

"Show me it’s real. I-I need to know it’s real.” Peter gripped Chris’s arms.

 

Chris gently stroked Peter’s cheek. “Breathe…ok? You know how this is real? My nickname for you, that no one else knows is pup.”

 

Peter relaxed a little. But he wasn’t convinced still.

 

“I love you, I think you’re beautiful in the midst of a fight. Fangs and claws don’t bother me at all.”

 

“That’s easy stuff. Prove it to me.” Peter was still shaking.

 

Chris sighed. “Peter,” he whispered, watching him meet his eyes. “The day we fought, it wasn’t supposed to end that way. I’m sorry I yelled at you, I’ve spent the last two months regretting all of it.” He took hold of Peter’s hands. “What I had been planning that night was…” Chris knelt down and looked up at Peter. “Will you marry me?”

 

Peter didn’t know what to say.

 

There was a crash and sounds of fighting, Lydia screamed. Everything came back into jarring focus, too loud, too much.

 

Peter covered his ears.

 

Chris got up and pulled him to his chest. He turned Peter to walk to the Jeep.

 

Time seemed to freeze as Peter crossed the threshold for the compound. There was an ear-splitting whine and Peter dropped, he convulsed in Chris’s arms and passed out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Peter stirred, burying his face into soft sheets. Wait…He blinked open his eyes and rolled over, sitting up.

 

Chris stood in the doorway. He had a pink plastic tray with eggs and bacon on it and a cup of coffee.

 

Peter eyed the tray.

 

“It was Allison’s. She had a case of pneumonia when she was five and had to stay home from school for two weeks. She demanded breakfast in bed.”

 

“And you kept it for twelve years just in case.” Peter snorted.

 

Chris walked in and set the tray down beside Peter. He went to leave and Peter grabbed his wrist.

 

Everything felt like a bad dream. “I-is this-?”

 

Chris sat on the bed. He moved closer to Peter and on instinct, he moved away, still skittish.

 

“You can bite me to make sure.”

 

Peter’s eyed widened, remembering in his dream or whatever it was, the taste of blood and the flutter of Chris’s pulse. Peter felt dull pain and he yanked his hand away from Chris. Red teeth marks on his wrist started to fade.

 

“You’ve slept for a long time. That place took a toll on you.”

 

Peter turned to his food, picked up some bacon. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“I’m not saying you have to. I’ve informed the pack that if you howl, it might be a nightmare and to check with me first if you’re in danger.”

 

Peter ate his bacon. “Just another for the recurring dreamscape that plagues me each night.”

 

“But you slept soundly, because you were surrounded by my scent. Just like you were trying to at-“

 

Peter looked up at Chris. “Lydia told you then?”

 

Chris nodded. “Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?”

 

“So we can share nightmares?”

 

Chris took hold of Peter’s hand, the one that wasn’t diving into the bacon. “Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you ask to make you feel better.”

 

Peter took a drink of coffee. He turned to Chris. “I want to move in with you.”

 

Chris was ready to argue, that’s what they had been arguing about before everything had happened.

 

“I know you think you don’t have the room but I’ll stay here and I’ll pay for my own food. Besides if you’re serious about marrying me then I’ll have to move in.”

 

Chris sighed and Peter smiled. “You’re a pain in the ass, but I love you and I missed you.”

 

They kissed and Peter grabbed the plate of eggs and stretched out, putting his feet in Chris’s lap. “You’re not going to regret it at all.”

 

Chris rolled his eyes. He sat there till Peter was finished eating, still holding his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> If I missed a tag please tell me  
> I'm shipperfiendobssesser on tumblr, come poke me


End file.
